Woman eh entangle in touching romance,
just looking at a passerby -
everyone holds his pocket cautiously.
From the beggars -
what to cheat with them?
How many years will, find out by now -
candidate for the fathom of the city morgue -
infinitely more rich,
than any Pierpont Morgan.
Through so much, so many years
- word, I will not survive -
I'll die of hunger,
I'll stand under the gun -
of today's redhead,
professors will learn to the last jot,
from the pulpit a big-headed idiot
grind something about god devil.
The crowd will bow,
You don't even know -
I'm not myself:
she will paint a bald head
in the horns or in the radiance.
before you lie down,
will not forget to hang over my verses.
I am a pessimist,
I know -
the student will live on earth.
everything, what my soul owns,
- and her riches go kill her! —
what will decorate my step for eternity,
and my very immortality,
which, thundering for all ages,
the kneeling will gather the world veche, —
all this - you want? —
I'll give it up now
for just one word
Dust avenues, trampling rye,
go from all over the earth.
not for a penny
the most precious crown for sale.
For a human word -
isn't it true, cheap?